Relics of War

Chapter Eighteen

Garander watched as the carpet glided down to a landing a few feet away. He recognized Zendalir, but the others were strangers-finely-dressed strangers. In fact, their clothes were not quite like anything Garander had seen before, even in the pictures in his mother’s books, and he realized these must be the latest fashions from Ethshar. Shella was probably ecstatic about getting a good look at them; he glanced at his sister’s face, and her expression told him he was right.

He guessed that the woman in the maroon velvet gown with the flared waist was Lady Shasha; she seemed to be in charge. The others were probably a mix of magicians and minor officials. Combined with the baron’s party, Garander was sure this was by far the most people who had ever been on the family farm at one time.

Looking back, he saw that soldiers were leaning into Lord Dakkar’s tent to tell him of this new development, and Velnira was marching across the black earth toward the newcomers.

The woman in the maroon dress stepped off the carpet, and seemed a bit startled by how much her slipper sank into the soft ground, but quickly recovered. She marched toward Grondar.

“I am Lady Shasha of Ethshar, advisor to Edaran, Overlord of Ethshar of the Sands, Triumvir of the Hegemony of the Three Ethshars, Commander of the Holy Armies and Defender of the Gods,” she announced, looking up at Grondar. “May I ask to whom I am speaking?”

“I’m Grondar of Lullen,” Garander’s father replied. “This is my farm.”

Lady Shasha curtsied. Garander had never before seen a woman do that seriously; until now, the only time he had seen anyone curtsey it had been his mother doing it as mockery. When his mother did it Garander had thought it was ridiculous and had laughed; when Lady Shasha curtsied, it was graceful and elegant and not laughable at all. “Thank you for your hospitality,” she said.

“I didn’t…” Grondar began, but then he stopped. After all, Garander thought, what could he possibly say? He had not invited the overlord’s advisor or her companions, but he was hardly in a position to turn them away. He had known they were coming, and had done nothing to stop them. Instead he managed a crude bow and said, “You’re welcome.”

“I have come to speak with the person who presents himself as shatra, on behalf of Lord Edaran,” she said. “Could you assist me?”

Grondar looked about helplessly, and Garander spoke up. “He should be here soon. He knew you were coming.”

She curtsied again. “Thank you, sir. And you are…?”

“Garander Grondar’s son.”

“I am honored to meet you.”

Garander did not believe that for an instant, but he bowed in acknowledgment. Then he gestured and said, “This is my sister Ishta. She was the one who first met the shatra.”

Lady Shasha nodded, but apparently deemed another curtsy excessive. “That’s my mother, Shella of the Green Eyes,” Ishta said, pointing. “And my sister, Shella the Younger.”

The noblewoman acknowledged the two new arrivals with another nod. “A pleasure,” she said. She raised her head toward Lord Dakkar’s company. “And those?”

“The household of Lord Dakkar, Baron of Varag, my lady,” Velnira said, before anyone else could respond. She had joined the family during the introductions. “I am Velnira, chamberlain to Lord Dakkar.”

“Ah. One of the men who meet at Sardiron of the Waters, this Dakkar?”

Even Garander recognized the deliberate insult in this phrasing, in the refusal to acknowledge any of the baron’s titles or authority. He saw Velnira’s expression harden. “Exactly,” she replied. “The one in whose domain we are standing.”

“It was my understanding that this family owns this land.” She gestured at Grondar and the others.

Velnira did not reply immediately, and Lady Shasha turned back to Grondar. “You say the supposed shatra is expected soon?”

Grondar looked helplessly at Garander, who said, “Yes, my lady.”

“Is there somewhere we might speak privately?”

“Well, I…” Grondar began.

“You will do no such thing!” Velnira snapped. “We will not tolerate foreign overlords conspiring in secret.”

“I regret to say that none of the overlords are with us today,” Lady Shasha answered calmly.

“But their representatives are-and you are not welcome.”

“Oh?” She turned to Grondar again. “Are we unwelcome?”

“I…I don’t…”

“It is not his decision!” Velnira shouted.

“Wait a minute,” Grondar protested.

Before anyone could react, Ishta called, “Look!” She pointed.

Most of the people within earshot looked, and saw Tesk moving toward them in that inhumanly smooth way of his. Ishta had not been the only one to notice; several voices in Lord Dakkar’s camp were raised as well, announcing the shatra’s approach. Hands fell to weapons, or were raised to point; Garander saw weapons being drawn, which he thought was a mistake.

And then Tesk was there, standing amid Garander’s family, looking calmly at Velnira and Lady Shasha. “I understand you wanted to speak with me,” he said. He glanced at the baron’s camp. “There are more of you than I expected.”

Lady Shasha immediately curtsied again, and asked, “You are the shatra?”

“I am.” He did not look at her as he replied, but scanned his surroundings quickly.

“I am delighted to meet you, sir. How should I address you?”

“Ishta calls me Tesk,” the shatra replied, returning his attention to the Ethsharite. “I do not find it objectionable.”

“Very good,” the noblewoman said. “I am Lady Shasha of Ethshar, advisor to Edaran, Overlord of Ethshar of the Sands, Triumvir of the Hegemony of the Three Ethshars, Commander of the Holy Armies and Defender of the Gods.”

Tesk turned to the other woman. “Who are you?”

“Velnira, chamberlain to Lord Dakkar, baron of Varag.”

Tesk nodded, then turned back to Lady Shasha. “You want to hire me?”

“Lord Edaran wishes to offer you a position in his court, yes.”

“And you,” Tesk said to Velnira. “What does Lord Dakkar want?”

“Why, he, too, wishes to employ you.”

“Why?”

Velnira blinked in surprise. “He thinks you… He thinks he could…”

“He is in that tent?”

“Ah…yes, but…”

“He brought all those people?”

“Yes, he…”

“A job interview does not require soldiers and magicians.”

Velnira opened her mouth, but before she could speak Tesk turned to Lady Shasha. “You brought magicians, too.”

“We did,” Lady Shasha acknowledged. “We wish to study your magic-so much Northern magic was lost forever when the empire fell! Zendalir was hired to provide transportation, while the others are here to evaluate your magical artifacts and abilities. And these two courtiers are here to answer any questions you might have about the overlord’s government, and your prospective position in it.”

That actually sounded quite reasonable to Garander; Lord Dakkar’s actions were not as easily explained away.

“And Lord Dakkar brought his soldiers to protect you from these Ethsharite magicians!” Velnira burst out. “You can’t trust these people. You live in the baron’s territory, and he has come to protect you from these intruders.”

Garander had been focused on this discussion, but a sound distracted him, and he turned to see a dozen of the baron’s soldiers advancing toward Tesk, weapons ready in their hands. Behind them stood a man in a gaudy red-and-gold tunic, with a golden band around his head. At first Garander thought this must be another magician, but then he realized it was Lord Dakkar himself.

“You!” the lead soldier bellowed, pointing a sword at Lady Shasha. “Get away from him!”

Lady Shasha drew herself up to her full height-which was not very great; she barely came to Garander’s shoulder. “I do not take orders from you!” she snapped.

Tesk stepped in front of her. “I am speaking with this person,” he said.

“She’s trespassing!”

“No, she isn’t,” Grondar said, startling Garander. “I invited her.”

“The baron says she’s trespassing!”

“The baron does not own this land,” Grondar replied angrily. “I do!”

“The baron-”

“The baron did not clear this land with his own hands,” Grondar interrupted. “I did. The baron did not plow and sow and reap these fields. The baron did not build this house or that barn. This is my land.”

“This land is under the protection of Lord Dakkar, Baron of Varag,” the soldier insisted.

“This is my land,” Grondar repeated. “I say who comes and goes here.”

Garander stared at his father in astonishment. He had never before heard Grondar say anything about the baron but acceptance and praise. It had always been his mother who expressed doubts about leaving the hegemony of Ethshar and siding with the barons of Sardiron.

But until now the baron had always been far away in Varag, not camping in the west field. Lord Dakkar had never before asserted any claim to Grondar’s farm.

Something rustled, and Garander glanced over to see the flying carpet hovering a foot or so off the ground, apparently ready to take to the air. In the other direction, someone in the baron’s camp shouted for archers.

He turned to Tesk, but the shatra was simply watching and listening, standing between the soldiers and Lady Shasha, but otherwise doing nothing to calm the situation. Ishta was staring wide-eyed at the approaching soldiers, while both Shellas, mother and daughter, were backing away.

“Stop it!” Garander shouted, surprising even himself. “Stop it! You’re being stupid!”

“I am merely presenting Lord Edaran’s offer,” Lady Shasha protested.

“I didn’t mean you,” Garander said. “I meant them!” He pointed at the baron’s men. “Don’t you people realize there are magicians on that carpet? Powerful magicians? And that you’re facing a shatra? I know you didn’t see the demonstration last month, but you must have heard stories about shatra!”

“We have our own magicians,” the lead soldier replied.

“Do you have your own shatra? Do you think you can recruit him by starting a stupid fight?”

“Sheathe your weapons!” the man in red and gold called. “The boy is right.”

The soldiers hesitated, but obeyed, and cleared a path as Lord Dakkar marched up to where Tesk and Grondar’s family stood.

“I am Lord Dakkar, Baron of Varag,” he said. “I have come to discuss your future, shatra.”

“As have I,” Lady Shasha said.

“I do not think my future concerns either of you,” Tesk replied.

“Of course it does!” the baron said.

“Lord Edaran hopes you will consider his offer,” Lady Shasha added.

“What will happen if I do not?” Tesk asked, turning to look over his shoulder at the Ethsharite noblewoman.

Lady Shasha turned up an empty palm. “Who can say? But should you not hear his offer before rejecting it?”

“And my offer as well!” the baron snapped.

Lady Shasha nodded a polite acknowledgment, which the baron greeted with a glower.

“Then present your master’s offer,” Tesk said to Lady Shasha.

“Lord Edaran sends his greetings,” Lady Shasha recited, “and assures you that he understands you owe him no loyalty and are not a subject of the Hegemony of the Three Ethshars. This offer is to you individually, from Lord Edaran personally, and is not from any government of Ethshar, past, present, or future. The other overlords of the Hegemony are not involved, nor are any other officials. In recognition of your unique situation, he does not ask or expect any oath of fealty or political concession.

“Lord Edaran offers you a home in Ethshar of the Sands, the exact details to be negotiated to suit your preferences. He offers his full pardon for any past offenses you may have committed against the people of Ethshar in the Great War, and in addition to your lodging a salary equal to that of his senior advisors, which would at present be the sum of thirty-six gold rounds annually. He does not rule out further compensation, to be negotiated upon your arrival within Ethshar’s walls. These terms are offered for an indefinite period, to be terminated at your pleasure, not his own.

“In exchange, he asks full access to your magical devices, of whatever nature, and your instruction in their use. He asks that you permit other magicians in his employ to study you and all magic associated with you, and that you do no harm to any citizen of Ethshar of the Sands except in self-defense. He also asks that your services be exclusive to himself, and that you will not allow anyone other than Lord Edaran and his designated representatives any use of your magic or abilities.

“And inasmuch as he has been told that you do not wish to fight, he assures you that he has no intention of asking you to do so. You will not be asked to serve as an assassin, or in any military role whatsoever, but he hopes you will consider serving as his personal bodyguard on occasions when he feels it suitable. That is not a requirement, though-it is your magic, and not your personal service, he most desires to obtain.”

Her message delivered, Lady Shasha took a deep breath, and smiled up at the shatra. “He hopes for a prompt and positive response,” she added.

Garander found that deep breath distracting, so he did not see Tesk’s immediate reaction; when he did look at the shatra’s face he could read nothing in the expression there.

Then Tesk turned to Lord Dakkar and asked, “What are your terms?”

The baron bit his lip, then said, “I can’t match that salary. Perhaps if some of my fellow barons contribute, we could. I can give you a house in Varag, though, and servants to staff it, and the freedom to go wherever you please within the territory of the barons of the council at Sardiron-it sounded to me as if Lord Edaran would require you to stay in Ethshar of the Sands.”

Tesk turned back to Lady Shasha.

“I don’t know if he would require it,” she replied, “but I believe he would indeed expect it.”

Tesk nodded. He glanced at the baron, then at Velnira, then at Ishta, before turning back to Lady Shasha and replying, “If so, I cannot accept Lord Edaran’s offer.”

“Oh, but surely-” she began.

“Cannot,” Tesk said. “Not will not. You seem to forget I am not a free man. I am shatra, bound to the service of the Northern Empire.”

“But the Northern Empire is gone,” Garander said. “Isn’t it?”

“Of course it is!” Velnira exclaimed.

“It is,” Tesk agreed. “That does not alter the magic that binds me.”

“I don’t understand,” Garander said.

“I must obey the orders I was given by my commanders,” Tesk said. “The destruction of the Empire and the end of the war does not change that-this is magic, not human choice.”

“But what orders do you still have?” Garander demanded. “You said yourself you had no orders!”

“I did say that,” Tesk acknowledged. “That was not accurate. I have had no specific orders for twenty years, but the general orders that I was given still hold. I cannot sleep in any permanent structure. I cannot sleep in the same spot twice within thirty-six hours. I cannot sleep within forty feet of anyone other than members of the Empire’s military. Have you never wondered why I never built myself a house? Why I did not accept an invitation to stay the night in Grondar’s home? Garander and Ishta, you have asked me why I chose to live alone in the woods for so long-this is why. I cannot live indoors; it is not permitted.”

For a moment no one spoke; then Lady Shasha said, “Perhaps accommodations could be made. There is an area in Ethshar known as the Wall Street Field…”

Tesk shook his head. “No,” he said. “I would be too exposed in an open field, and too enclosed by the city walls. Besides, you ask for my magic. That cannot work to your satisfaction.”

“I don’t…” Velnira began.

“I will show you,” Tesk said, reaching up and pulling a long black wand from the pack on his back.

Garander heard several people gasp, and saw several, including Velnira and Lord Dakkar, step back, away from the shatra. For himself, he stared at the black rod, trying to decide whether it was the same one Tesk had demonstrated to Ishta and him in the forest months ago.

Then Tesk pointed the wand at one of the tents the baron’s men had set up. “See where I press my thumb,” he said, and Garander watched as he set his thumb into a flattened oval on the side of the wand.

The tent exploded into flame, much as that stump had in the shatra’s previous demonstration; bits of burning fabric scattered in all directions, and there was a moment of chaos as some people fled in terror from the explosion and debris while others ran to stamp out the flames.

When the shouting had subsided, and the fires had all been extinguished, Tesk tossed the rod to Lord Dakkar.

“Here,” he said. “You try it.”